The Space Between What's Wrong and Right
by Viveca
Summary: What happened after Elizabeth left Arnaud in Brother's Keeper from her POV. Please R&R.


"I'm leaving."

"Bye."  I couldn't see his face but I know that mocking tone to his voice.  Arnaud is such an annoying son of a bitch when he wants to be.  This time, I really am leaving.  For good this time.  All this about Kevin Fawkes coming back from the grave is not only impossible but bordering on laughable.  His brother is a con artist after all.  He used to make his living off making other people believe what he wanted them to believe.  Of course he could sound so much like his brother that Arnie wouldn't know the difference.

It's when he gets like this that I think maybe Arnaud is suffering from some sort of dementia or a form of Quicksilver madness.  He gets so vicious and violent at times.  He gets abusive, too.  Not so much physically as emotionally and verbally.  I honestly don't know why I keep going back to him.  That's not entirely true.  I keep going back because he's brilliant and can be quite charming when it suits him.  Besides all that, I love him.  I don't know why I love him but I do.  Maybe it's because the way he is when he's in a good mood and it's just us.  Those were the times when he could be wonderful.

Those days have been gone for a long time now.  Ever since he showed up, so to speak, at my apartment and was permanently and completely invisible, his good moods have been extremely few and very far between.  Still I've stayed.  There have been one or two times that he's been, well, normal.  We haven't been able to go out like we used to, but we've discovered the joys of having to stay in and amuse ourselves.  It wasn't that bad until he started growing those stupid masks.  I understand why he wants them, though.  Arnaud is the type of man who enjoys his fortune and all the luxuries it can buy.  He enjoys going to expensive restaurants, the opera, and the like.  After the gland malfunctioned, that was impossible.  It has driven him crazy I think.  I will admit, however, that it is nice to be able to see Arnie again.  His voice alone is enough to make me weak in the knees but his eyes…I could lose myself in those eyes.

I wonder if he's okay.  He was chain smoking when I left and that isn't a good sign.  I've only seen him smoke like that when he was working on something difficult, and usually illegal, or after one of our nights in bed.  I should go back and see about him.

No.  I will not go back to him this time.

********************

The phone rings.  It's Arnie; I know it.  I pick it up anyway.

"Elizabeth."  He sounds tired.  My first instinct is to go straight over there.  No.

"What do you want Arnaud?"  I steel myself against his still seductive voice.

"Things got out of hand the other day."

Silence.  What do I say?  "Yes they did."

"I still need your help."  Damn him.  He knows exactly what to say.  I will not give into him.

"I thought you said I was useless."  My voice is cool and bitter.  I hear him sigh and my resolve begins to weaken.  "Besides, I thought Kevin Fawkes was back.  He helped design the gland to begin with so he should be able to fix it."

"I don't want to talk about him.  You put the gland in so you will have to correct the malfunction once we figure out what you did wrong."

What **_I_** did wrong?!  "I didn't do anything wrong!  Fawkes was in Stage 5 Quicksilver madness.  I did everything you told me to do."  I am so close to tears that they are audible in my voice.

"Lizbeth, chere…"

"Don't call me that.  Don't call me at all."  I slam the phone down.  I had to while I still had the nerve and the courage.  I love him but I'm tired of being used.  Speaking of being tired, I'm exhausted.  A nice warm bubble bath before bed sounds wonderful right now.

********************

I'm on a nice warm beach.  The sun is bright in the sky and the ocean spray is close enough that I can feel its warmth tickling the bottom of my feet.  A gentle breeze is blowing as I sip on my margarita.  A waiter is walking toward me.  He looks strangely familiar.  That's impossible.  No one knows me here.  I start to shiver as the breeze turns cold.  I feel an icy touch on my arm and hear a voice whisper in my ear, "Belle chere…ma petite…"

I wake up suddenly.  I know that voice.  Arnaud.  I don't reach for the bedside lamp even though it's my first instinct.  It won't do any good anyway; I won't be able to see him.

"What the hell are you doing here?"  I fight to keep my voice steady even though the weight, although frigid, of his body near mine makes my heart beat faster.

"I thought I could persuade you to come back to me."  I turn to his voice and feel an icy kiss on my neck.

"You don't need me.  I'm useless remember?"

"Ma chere, do not use my own words against me."  I hear the fury lying just under his words.  I think very carefully about my next move.  I feel his hand through the blanket on my hip.  My guess is that he's using his other hand to prop his head up.  I could almost imagine his face.  There would be the hint of a devious little smile but his eyes would betray the fury beneath his words.  I decided to play his little game for once.  I relax back into the bed and move closer to him while staying beneath the protection of the blanket.

"I'm sorry, Arnie.  Forgive me?"  I make my voice small, apologetic but a touch playful.  I know what buttons to push with him.  I feel his breath on my neck again.  It's an odd sensation; his breath is warm and moist while the Quicksilver covering him gives off a frigid chill.

"Mais out ma petite."  He whispers huskily and kisses my neck again.  He keeps kissing and nibbling one spot on my neck because he knows it drives me crazy normally.  I have to bite my lip to keep from giving into him.  He also knows exactly what hearing him speak French does to me, too.

"Good, but Arnie I'm exhausted and I have a meeting first thing in the morning with my lawyer.  You don't want me to look…rumpled…and tired do you?  I mean, after all, I'm supposed to be a reformed good little doctor now."  I reach up to where his face should be and caress his cheek.  I hear him draw a ragged breath.

"Merde…" he mutters.  When he gets frustrated or excited, his language reverts to French.  "D'accord.  Call tomorrow when you've finished with your appointment."  I feel him shift his weight and get off the bed.  I hear his footsteps echo toward my door.  "Elizabeth, don't try to double cross me.  I'll always find you." His voice is a warning before he leaves.  I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding.  I have to chance it.  He'll never leave me alone while I'm here.  Tomorrow, I leave.

********************

Six months.  I've had 6 months of blissful freedom.  Well, to be perfectly honest, they haven't been **_that_** blissful.  The first month or so I kept looking over my shoulder for him.  I hadn't lied that last night with him.  I did have an appointment with my lawyer the next morning.  I'd asked him about leaving the country and he'd arranged it on the spur of the moment.  I don't know why I picked Paris except for the fact that I've always wanted to come here and I guess I'm not completely over Arnaud.  

I've thought about going back to him once or twice but something always holds me back.  I'm not quite sure what it is.  I heard through my lawyer that Arnaud had broken his brother out of jail but Huiclos had gone right back.  I guess he'd rather be a legal prisoner instead of an illegal one.  Can't say that I blame him.

I miss San Diego though.  I'm thinking of going back for a visit.  My lawyer doesn't think that's such a good idea but I do.  There's no way Arnaud's still there.  Although I don't know; you can never tell with Arnie.

I keep having the strangest feeling that I'm being watched but whenever I look around there's no one there.  Probably just leftover paranoia.

I walk up to the door of my apartment and have the feeling someone's waiting on me inside.  I turn the key in the lock and feel it unlock.  I open the door slowly and walk through, looking side to side, always checking for an intruder.  I stop dead in my tracks when I see roses, a bottle of champagne chilling, and a candlelit dinner for two on my table. I hear footsteps behind me and I begin to turn around slowly.  I know who's there before I even turn completely around.  When I'm completely turned around, I drop my purse and keys.  For a moment I cannot believe who I'm seeing standing in front of me and completely visible.

"Bon soir ma chere.  I told you I'd always find you."  


End file.
